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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048659">Finnigan's Menagerie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibye/pseuds/hibye'>hibye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Growing Deep [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:48:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibye/pseuds/hibye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seamus Finnigan is now in the company of a Crup, a Kneazle, two neon bullfrogs, five puffskeins, his daughter, his husband, and one jeweled tortoise. They're still negotiating the hippocamp.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Growing Deep [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Finnigan's Menagerie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Finnigan's Menagerie</span>
</p><p>He can feel them starting up even before the Menagerie has come into view. It happens every time. As soon as they round the corner, Felicity tugs gently at the back of his robe and says, “Dad…”</p><p>“No,” says Seamus.</p><p>“You know you’ll cave eventually,” says Dean. His eyes are fixed keenly on the shop window, where a fairly enormous frog, about the size of a foot stool, sits glistening in the sun. Seamus can only hope that’s not the one they’ll be asking for.</p><p>“Would be nice,” says Seamus, “not to be undermined every time I try to teach some self-control, love.”</p><p>“You don’t know self-control,” Dean laughs. When they reach the storefront, he takes Seamus by the elbow and guides him inside. Seamus doesn’t resist. He is already storing energy for the next battle, which will be walking out of the place without a new pet in hand.</p><p>The Menagerie is packed today with students gathering supplies for the upcoming school year at Hogwarts. There is a display of owl treats that reaches all the way to the ceiling. The chatter and the rattle of cages is a little bit deafening, so Seamus hangs back while his family melts into the mob.</p><p>Felicity has been weeping over the jeweled tortoises for months, but this time her attention is distracted by a spotted Kneazle sleeping on top of a bookshelf stuffed with care manuals. She reaches for it but can’t quite reach. She unfortunately has inherited Seamus’s height, and not Dean’s. Seamus is about to tell her to let the beast sleep, but just then the store clerk comes to her aid.</p><p>“This one is a bit older,” says the clerk. “Rescue. Deaf in one ear. He can always tell when an object is cursed.”</p><p>Felicity fairly sags under the Kneazle’s weight. It is completely placid and limp, sagging over her arms in all directions, its tail touching the floor.</p><p>“Wow,” says Felicity. Her eyes are like galleons. Shit.</p><p>Sighing, Seamus turns to keep track of his husband. Dean is crouched down by the enclosure of an irritable-looking porcupine.</p><p>“I really won’t be having that,” says Seamus.</p><p>Dean doesn’t even look up. “Yeah, I thought so.” He presses a finger to the glass and the porcupine turns its back on him.</p><p>By now, the store clerk has noticed them. “Looking for anything in particular?” he asks. His name tag reads “Milton.”</p><p>“Got anything bigger?” asks Dean cheerfully. “Hippocamp, maybe?”</p><p>“What?” yells Seamus.</p><p>“Oh, sorry, I’m afraid not,” says Milton. “We have got some goats, though.”</p><p>“Just where do you think you would keep a fuckin’ hippocamp, anyway?”</p><p>Dean shrugs. “Not interested in a goat. Thanks, though.”</p><p>“Ta,” says Milton.</p><p>To Seamus, Dean says, “Nowhere, I just wanted to see if they had one.” He smiles. “Relax, I’m just having a laugh.”</p><p>It is funny, but Seamus will be damned if he’ll admit it. Still, Dean must see it on his face, because his grin turns a little smug.</p><p>Milton says, “Just the Kneazle, then?”</p><p>“The what?” says Dean. He locks in on Felicity, who gazes solemnly back at him with the spotted Kneazle drooping in her arms. Its eyes are alert, but otherwise it may as well be dead.</p><p>“The Kneazle,” says Seamus. “Pay attention.”</p><p>“You knew about the Kneazle?”</p><p>“His name,” says Felicity seriously, “is Cheetah.”</p><p>“You’ll regret that in a few years,” says Dean.</p><p>“No I won’t.”</p><p>Dean glances at Seamus, a question in his eyes. Can they have it?</p><p>“He’s a very good Kneazle,” says Felicity. Her face is so earnest it makes something go painfully tight in Seamus’s chest. He has never been able to deny her anything, of course; Dean was right about his self-control.</p><p>“You don’t think it will bother the Crup?” asks Seamus.</p><p>Milton pipes up helpfully. “He has been getting along fine with our Crups. He’s very easy-going.”</p><p>“Too right,” says Dean, eyeing the way the cat bonelessly allows Felicity to drape it over her shoulder like a scarf.</p><p>It was a lost cause the moment they walked in. Seamus can’t even pretend to feel sorry as he reaches for his money. In the end, they leave with their new cat, a bag of food and toys, a collar with a little silver plate that says “Cheetah,” and a jeweled tortoise.</p><p>--</p><p>They stop for ice cream before they leave for home. Florean’s is gone, replaced by a joint run by a pleasantly fat young man named Ben. He recognizes Seamus, saying that he had been a second-year during the war, and takes their orders at no charge. Uncomfortable things happen like that, now and again - less so for Seamus and Dean than some of the others, especially Harry, who hardly goes out in public if he can help it. It’s not a pleasant reminder, no matter how many thanks they get. That time is a black hole in Seamus’s memory, and if he skirts too close it sucks him under, too dark and heavy to escape.</p><p>But when he tenses up, there’s Dean’s hand against the small of his back, warm like sunlight. He doesn’t have to say anything. Dean’s always been good at that.</p><p>So Seamus and Felicity order four scoops each, much to Dean’s disapproval. About two scoops in, Felicity sadly spoons her leftovers into Seamus’s bowl.</p><p>“She’s going to get a stomach ache,” sighs Dean, sliding her his napkin so that she can finish cleaning herself off.</p><p>“I don’t want to hear about it,” says Seamus. He points with his spoon. “You’re the one who bought her a tortoise.”</p><p>“You’re spitting,” says Dean, trying not to laugh.</p><p>“I hope I’m not as boring as you when I get old,” says Felicity matter-of-factly. She doesn’t mean it unkindly, but more of an observation.</p><p>“Yeah, Dean,” says Seamus.</p><p>“She’s talking about you.”</p><p>“It’s both of you,” she says. “And I do have a stomach ache.”</p><p>Dean has long since finished his more conservative cone, but now he uses Felicity’s abandoned spoon to take a bite from Seamus’s bowl. “You’re right, Lissy. I hope you don’t get boring, either.”</p><p>“One time I blew up a bridge,” Seamus tells her. Her face is very doubtful. He supposes fatherhood has made him a touch less daring - but surely not <em>that</em> much. With a rueful smile, he reaches over to ruffle her hair; it’s softer than Dean’s, curling at her shoulders in dark brown waves, drowned in colorful hair clips. She’ll be going to Hogwarts in a few years. He doesn’t want to think about that.</p><p>“I know about that,” says Lissy. “Dad told me.”</p><p>For a second, Seamus catches Dean’s gaze. “Talking about me, were you?”</p><p>“You’re our favorite topic,” says Dean, a bit softly.</p><p>A sudden motion distracts Seamus, and he turns to see that it’s Susan Bones, heaving her little girl up onto her shoulders to read the kinds of ice cream. Her girlfriend, Rose, is squinting hard at the toppings, nose nearly against the glass. Felicity spots her at the same moment and shouts out. “Suzy!”</p><p>Susan turns around. Only one person is allowed to call her “Suzy.” Seamus had tried it once, when they had become friends, and she had slapped him with a throw pillow. She’s been one of his best friends since then - better than some of his housemates. She and the Hufflepuffs had been in his wedding (he joked that Dean had taken all of the Gryffindors, which he had).</p><p>“Oh my God!” says Susan. “It’s been ages!”</p><p>The rest of the afternoon goes like that, Susan and Rose and baby Wisteria crowded around their table, petting the new Kneazle, asking about Dean’s latest project and Seamus’s singed fingertips. It’s good to see her again. She kisses his cheek when she leaves.</p><p>“Should I be jealous?” teases Dean.</p><p>“If you want,” says Seamus. He finishes the last of his ice cream soup. The flavors have blended together into a nonspecific puddle. All he tastes is sweet.</p><p>--</p><p>The tortoise goes in the aquarium with the pair of neon bullfrogs. The Kneazle, once released, jumps atop the bookshelf in the hall and goes to sleep. The Crup, named Lucky, yaps at it for several minutes before giving up. Felicity gamely tries to introduce the puffskeins to it, but neither the puffskeins nor to the Kneazle are particularly interested.</p><p>“We’re turning into a fuckin’ zoo,” says Seamus, setting down their bags of supplies on the kitchen table. When he turns around, the puffskeins are roaming loose around the floor and eating bits of lint.</p><p>Moving around him, Dean gets started on fixing sandwiches for lunch. The line of his shoulders is loose, relaxed, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and deepening his dimples. The hem of his shirt is clean of ink stains, so it must belong to Seamus. He is stupidly handsome.</p><p>“It doesn’t actually bother me,” says Seamus.</p><p>“I know,” says Dean. He glances over his shoulder to shoot Seamus a warm look. “Thanks.”</p><p>The tell-tale click of claws on the floor signal Lucky’s approach as he comes to sit at Dean’s feet and beg. Dean tosses him down a piece of meat.</p><p>“It’s a good job we only have one kid, though,” says Seamus. “I stopped by Ron’s house last week while you and Lissy were out.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah. He had Harry’s bunch with him too. Total madhouse. Least you can put pygmy puffs in a cage at the end of the day, you know?”</p><p>Dean laughs softly. “I dunno,” he says. “I kind of liked having all of my sisters around. Then again…” He sets his butter knife in the sink. “I wouldn’t want to have raised all of us.”</p><p>“Exactly. Don’t know how they manage it.”</p><p>“Well, they’ve got people to help out, I imagine.” Dean cocks his head thoughtfully. “We should ask my family more.”</p><p>“Sure, right,” laughs Seamus. “Just expect that River will be wanting fair exchange for you to look after her four.”</p><p>“Oh, right.”</p><p>“And I don’t trust Bell not to set the house on fire.”</p><p>“I barely trust <em>you</em> not to set the house on fire.”</p><p>“Only happened once.”</p><p>“Twice.”</p><p>“One and a half. You were part of the last one.”</p><p>“You interrupted my cooking. There would not have been a fire if it weren’t for you.”</p><p>“You let me distract you.” Seamus shrugs. “But being fair, I’m really good at that.”</p><p>“You are,” Dean agrees, “<em>very</em> distracting.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Seamus thinks maybe he’ll be rewarded for it, but instead Dean shoves a plate into his hands.</p><p>“That’s lunch.”</p><p>--</p><p>Later, they sit piled together on the sofa to watch a movie. Having been raised as a Muggle, Dean knows everything about movies. Their first summer together in school, surrounded by the Thomas sisters, Seamus had watched his first movie - Total Recall. It had taken a very long time to explain it to him; he hadn’t even known that people had landed on the moon (but not Mars, he still has to remind himself). And when they had grown up and moved in together, they had spent long evenings going through all of the films Dean considers “essential viewing” - Back to the Future and Friday the 13<sup>th</sup> and Grease (he is very gay). Most of those evenings had been lost to bottomless kisses, making up for time they had nearly lost in the war.</p><p>Those first few years had been rough, so rough. But as Seamus sits here now, Dean’s arm around his shoulder and his daughter’s head on his stomach, their Crup and their new Kneazle and their five puffskeins piled on top of him, he could not be happier.</p><p>Tonight is Felicity’s choice. It’s The Princess Bride again. She knows every word by heart and will recite the entire movie while they watch.</p><p>Dean is already falling asleep. Leaned against his chest, Seamus can feel the steady pace of his breathing. He smells sweaty from summer heat, and a little like aquarium water. He is missing his usual note of paint and turpentine.</p><p>“Dad,” says Felicity, “how come magic is so different on TV than in real life?”</p><p>“You’d think they’d do better research,” deadpans Seamus.</p><p>Dean stirs enough to mumble, “It’s Muggles.”</p><p>“Most wizard folk are afraid of technology. Don’t want to bother figuring out how to make it work around magic,” says Seamus. “So Muggles can just come up with whatever and no one will notice.”</p><p>“I noticed,” says Felicity.</p><p>“You should write them a letter.”</p><p>“Should not,” says Dean without opening his eyes. “You’ll get a fine.”</p><p>“Or worse,” says Seamus, “arrested.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Nuh uh,” says Felicity doubtfully. She hugs Cheetah close to her chest and the cat makes a sound like a breathless accordion.</p><p>“Yes. They have little cells for goblins who misbehave, and they’ll put human children in them too.”</p><p>“Dad,” says Felicity.</p><p>“And they poke you with sticks.”</p><p>Finally, Felicity starts to crack. “You’re silly, Dad.”</p><p>“Yeah, Dad,” says Dean.</p><p>“Go to sleep, you.”</p><p>“Would, if you’d stop talking.”</p><p>“I’m going to make a movie when I grow up,” says Felicity. “And there will be proper magic in it.”</p><p>“That sounds like a good plan,” says Seamus, but the words are lost when Felicity quickly shushes him.</p><p>“This is my favorite part,” she says, watching the screen with rapt attention.</p><p>Every part is her favorite part.</p><p>--</p><p>“Had a great day, did you?” says Seamus that evening, after Felicity has gone to bed. They are brushing their teeth, elbowing a little for the sink. The rhythm is off. Normally Dean is busy staring out of windows or wrestling with his latest art project while Seamus puts himself to bed, but it’s been a full day and they are both exhausted.</p><p>“It was brilliant,” says Dean. His voice is muffled by toothpaste and he is not even bothering not to look pleased with himself.</p><p>“Got everything you wanted?”</p><p>“Mm-hm. You?”</p><p>“Not yet.”</p><p>Dean’s eyes are bright. He doesn’t say anything. As soon as he’s finished up, Seamus hauls him down for a kiss. All he gets is mint, himself and Dean both. It tingles a bit.</p><p>“Am I in trouble?” asks Dean. Seamus hates and loves the way he gets, like this, like Seamus is the only thing he sees. On other nights, slower and more indulgent ones, Dean will start talking; he’ll tell Seamus how good he looks, how perfect he is, until he falls apart. That’s not tonight, though.</p><p>“Yes, you are,” Seamus replies. He manhandles Dean backwards, across the hall to their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.</p><p>“Oh no.”</p><p>Although much shorter, Seamus is also much stronger. He hefts Dean up into his arms and throws him bodily onto the bed. The ancient springs squeal under his weight and Dean has to cover his face with a pillow to muffle his laughter. He puts up a half-hearted fight when Seamus wrestles him out of his trousers, but strips off his own shirt without fuss.</p><p>“You,” says Dean, but he’s out of breath from laughing and can’t get the thought together. He kicks at Seamus’s thigh, not hard enough to hurt. “Off.”</p><p>Seamus is already in pajama bottoms; they come off in one quick motion. The shirt stays on, as usual. It hides most of his scars. It’s very rare occasion that Dean can sweet talk him out of it.</p><p>“Gonna wreck your whole life,” says Seamus, which makes Dean laugh harder. “Gonna make you cry, love.”</p><p>“Big talk.”</p><p>“Just you wait. I’m aiming for three.”</p><p>Dean snorts. “Not going to happen.”</p><p>He is completely compliant as Seamus crawls up his body, lets him pin his hands to the bed, lets him bite at his neck and jaw. “Wanna bet?” says Seamus. “Six sickles.”</p><p>“Six sickles and a hippocamp.”</p><p>“We’re not getting a fuckin’ hippocamp.”</p><p>The argument stalls out for a moment, Dean guiding Seamus in for a slower, deeper kiss. “Love when you’re all peeved.”</p><p>“You’re the worst. I love you.”</p><p>“Yeah. You too.” He gives Seamus’s grip a test tug, but Seamus bears down on him and holds him still. Dean says, “Lucky you’re here, you know? So lucky. The ice cream shop made me remember.”</p><p>“I know. Don’t think about it.”</p><p>“Distract me.”</p><p>“Careful what you wish for.” With that, Seamus nips hard at Dean’s lower lip; he jerks in Seamus’s grasp.</p><p>“Ouch.”</p><p>Seamus drags him down the bed with him, until Seamus is knelt on the floor between his thighs. Dean is still laughing helplessly, having dragged the sheets down with him; he laughs the whole way through, choked and shaky. The first orgasm is always easy with Dean. But when Seamus rolls him over, asks, “All right?” his demeanor sobers a little.</p><p>“Fuck, I…” He laughs against his pillow. “You weren’t joking.”</p><p>“Me? Never.”</p><p>“All this over a tortoise.”</p><p>“Absolutely.”</p><p>“Okay.” Dean takes a few steadying breaths, squirms when Seamus bites at his inner thigh. “<em>Fuck</em>, okay. Okay.”</p><p>They don’t get any further before the door handle turns.</p><p>“Shit!” hisses Seamus. There’s nowhere to go from here. Dean usually locks the door - he must have forgotten.</p><p>Lightning fast, Dean rolls himself into the sheets like a burrito. It’s all Seamus can do to dive behind the bed - she won’t suspect a thing, he thinks flatly. When he glances up, he sees Dean staring back at him with a slightly sick expression.</p><p>The door creaks open, but there’s no sound. Seamus waits for his daughter’s voice, whatever is bothering her - a nightmare, a spider - but there’s nothing. Slowly, he peeks up over the bundle of blankets that is Dean Thomas.</p><p>Standing in the doorway is the Kneazle.</p><p>“It’s the damn cat,” says Seamus. His heart is still racing.</p><p>Dean unrolls enough to look. “What?”</p><p>Relieved laughter punches out of Seamus. “Oh, my God, I thought we really fucked it up.” With a bit of effort, he drags himself to his feet and moves to shoo the cat. It doesn’t move, so he picks it up and sets it firmly on the correct side of the door. “Goodnight, Cheetah,” he says. He shuts the door and double-checks the lock.</p><p>“Let me guess,” says Dean, detangling himself from the linens, “this is my fault.”</p><p>“You’ve guessed it,” says Seamus. He pauses to crack his knuckles and shake them out, which makes Dean’s mouth screw up with a restrained smile. “Now you’re up to four.”</p><p>--fin</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I made up Felicity's name as a throwaway in a 65k fic and now I'm stuck with it. I posted this once before and then deleted it for some reason. </p><p>Comments appreciated. Thanks!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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